Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! 
I fear lest it droop
and drop into the dust.
[I may not find]1 a place in thy garland,
but honour it 
with a touch of pain  from thy hand and pluck it. 
I fear lest the day end 
before I am [aware]2,
and the time of offering go by.
Though its colour be not deep 
and its smell be faint, 
use this flower in thy service 
and pluck it while there is time.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
¹ Hinton and some editions of Tagore: "It may not have"
² Hinton (in early performances of the work): "awake"

Text Authorship:

• by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in Gitanjali, no. 6, first published 1912 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Based on:

• a text in Bangla (Bengali) by Rabindranath Tagore (1861 - 1941), no title, appears in গীতাঞ্জলি (Gitanjali), no. 6 [text unavailable]
  • Go to the text page.

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by Alistair Hinton (b. 1950), "Pluck this little flower", op. 7 no. 1 (1970) [ high soprano and piano ], from Five Songs of Tagore, no. 1 [sung text not yet checked]
• by Landon Ronald, Sir (1873 - 1938), "Pluck this little flower", 1913 [ voice and piano ], from Four Song Offerings - 1st series, no. 1 [sung text not yet checked]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

• Also set in French (Français), a translation by André Gide (1869 - 1951) , no title, appears in Gitanjali (L'Offrande lyrique), no. 6, first published 1914 ; composed by Jean-Émile-Paul Cras, Louis Durey.
  • Go to the text.
    
• Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Bertram Kottmann , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission ; composed by Gary Bachlund.
  • Go to the text.
    
• Also set in Italian (Italiano), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist , first published 1936 ; composed by Franco Alfano.
  • Go to the text.
    

Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Poom Andrew Pipatjarasgit [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2004-01-17
Line count: 13
Word count: 83

Pflück dieses Blümlein, nimm es, zögre nicht!
Sonst lässt den Kopf es hängen, fürchte ich,
wird auf die Erde sinken.
Wohl werd ich mich in deinem Kranz nicht finden,
doch ehre es,
drück es, dass Schmerz es spürt aus deiner Hand und breche es.
Der Tag könnt’ enden, fürchte ich, 
eh’s mir gewahr,
die Zeit zu opfern, könnt’ vergehn.
Ist auch des Blümleins Farbe blass
und schwach sein Duft,
so sei es trotzdem dir zu Diensten.
Pflück es zur Zeit.